


Sleep With Me

by Assidy, Tesla_pike



Category: Elon musk - Fandom, SpaceX
Genre: Elon Musk - Freeform, F/M, SpaceX - Freeform, Tesla - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-09 14:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17408222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assidy/pseuds/Assidy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesla_pike/pseuds/Tesla_pike
Summary: This is a continuation of Tesla_pike's incredibly hot piece of romance,From nightmares and rockets.Elon Musk and his best engineer share a dark secret. But with two rocket scientists working on the problem, anything can be overcome.





	1. Things that Wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tesla_pike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesla_pike/gifts).
  * Inspired by [From nightmares and rockets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412927) by [Tesla_pike](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tesla_pike/pseuds/Tesla_pike). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is a continuation of "From nightmares and rockets" by Tesla_pike. Please read it at https://archiveofourown.org/works/14412927/chapters/33287679 .

Nightmares, dreams, what makes either come true? Your worries? Your hopes? The way you chase it, the way you run away? The people who share it with you, for better or for worse?

When you've had an out-of-reach fantasy, one you've held dearly and obsessively, with all of your heart and none of your hope, and it suddenly becomes real, you try it, you just try it and tell me you can be sure you've woken up.

And you tell me there isn't a fear transcending all realities that this thing that feels so solid in your hands can drop at any second.

The first time a dream turned real for me was three years ago, when I got my job at SpaceX, engineering technology to go to Mars and beyond.

The second came true tonight, when my hero returned my love.

Elon Musk had so many dreams in his arms, he couldn't carry them all. Every spaceship that reached orbit, every booster that landed, every Tesla that drove out on stage, every drill that broke the Earth, every solar panel that captured the Sun.

But, as he lay next to me, I could see in his face that he had enough room to carry me.

We both had our dreams, at least one of them shared.

But what brought us together was our nightmares.

We lay together, tired after lovemaking. The lines under his eyes documented all the nights he'd woken, alone, rocking back and forth on his bed as he reassured himself his death was just a dream.

Mine told a similar story.

But soon we would sleep, and even if the nightmares came, at least we wouldn't be alone.

“There's a quote, from a book by Kurt Vonnegut, by the organisms on the planet Mercury,” he said, touching and turning my hand like he was studying it. He glanced up at my eyes.

“Yeah?”

He looked away. “Nevermind, it's... Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“That I wake up screaming.”

“No.”

“Do you mind staying over again tonight?”

“There's nothing I'd rather do more.”

“Thank you.”

I had questions I wanted to ask him, which about added up to “how can I possibly be good enough for you,” but they sounded far too insecure.

“You're... really neat,” I said.

“So are you.”

“We're good with words.”

A huge, sleepy grin. “Yes.”

His eyelids were drooping, and I was more relaxed and drowsy than I'd been in a very long time.

“And now for the hard part,” I said with a wry grin.

“It will be a lot easier with you here.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

“Yeah.” He made a gesture by his eye-- he couldn't be wiping a tear? No, he was just rubbing it-- and he said, “... Yeah. That's the first time I could say that in a while.”

We snuggled up next to each other, hands clasped, foreheads close, breathing each others' air, and fell asleep.

 


	2. Things that Shake

I couldn't put my finger on what woke me up. The world spun when I opened my eyes and, despite it being dark, there were enough cues to suggest this wasn't my bed-- the smell of the place, the feel of the blankets, and the position of various LED indicator lights were all wrong.

And then it happened again. A shudder.

An earthquake.

“Elon!” I said automatically, and then I knew where I was. The smell. I was in Elon's house.

I shook him awake, but it probably did nothing to add to the enormous tremor that hit at that moment. He gasped and woke up.

“Earthquake! Come on!” I said.

“Okay, come on, get back from the window,” he said. “The hall should be safe.”

I wasn't familiar with his house, I couldn't see well in the dark, but he put his arms around me and led me to the bedroom door. I tripped on something that had fallen on the floor, and he picked me up. The ground continued to shake. This was the kind of magnitude CNN suspends its ad breaks to report.

There was a huge crash, like a part of a ceiling had fallen away. We barely had a chance to register it before the south wall of his room began to cave.

“Into the hallway, come on,” he said, giving me a push through the door.

Then the room's ceiling collapsed.

“Elon!” I screamed, as he went down under sheet rock and rafters. Cracks appeared in the hallway, but for the moment the narrow ceiling held. 

He was trapped on the other side of the door, coughing, half-buried in rubble. In just seconds, blood had coated one side of his head from a large gash.

The structure of the house let out a loud groan. Bits of drywall started to fall on my head. I tried to grab Elon, but the rubble was in the way.

I couldn't reach him. The doorway started to cave. I screamed his name and dove and-- 

My hand landed on his wrist. Hot, solid skin in my grip, I hauled him out.

He stumbled from the rubble and fell against me. I didn't let go. “We have to get out! Come on!”

It felt like falling and flying as we ran down stairs that jolted up and down beneath our feet, as we dodged and climbed collapsing walls, as we transitioned out the door and into the driveway with nothing beneath us and everything around us. 

We found chaos in the streets, branches and rubble falling everywhere. But his Tesla was standing firm, not even showing a dent from the tree that lay on top of it. Of course. It was designed to bear four times its own weight on its roof.

I shouted, “Get inside!”

I crawled into the back seat and pulled him after me. He was dusty and bloody, and by looking at my arms I was certain I was too. But his eyes were wide and alert, the gash on his head wasn't getting worse, and when he squeezed my hand, his grip was strong.

There was a violent thump above us, another huge chunk of rubble. We held each others' hands and the car held firm.

“You saved me,” he said, and he smiled.

I smiled back.

Then he screamed.

I bolted awake. THAT was a nightmare. It was instantly clear. I was awake now, in Elon's bed, clutching his hand. We had both sat bolt upright when he screamed himself awake.

“They're killing me, they're killing me,” he panted, squeezing my hand. I could feel him tremble. “They're killing... they're killing *us*. They're-- oh my god. In my nightmare, they were killing you.”

“Shhh, shhh, it was a dream. It was just a dream.”

“They were... you were with me, you were holding me, I was trying to protect you, you were clinging to me as you died.”

“Shhhh. I had a nightmare with you, too. But, I saved you.”

He balled my hand up in his and held it to his chest. “You saved me?”

“Yes. There was an earthquake. I took you by the hand and pulled you out of the collapsing house, into the Tesla where we were safe.”

He laughed. “I bet you have the strength specs memorized.”

“I must have touched you in my sleep. That's why I dreamed I grabbed you.”

“And when I felt you holding me in my sleep, I dreamed you were there when I died.”

“But we survived in my dream and died in yours. Those are some very different outcomes,” I observed.

“My favorite engineer,” he grinned. “I'm glad you were here when I woke up. I'm sorry if I frightened you.”

“It's fine. What time is it? Do you want to go to work?”

“Yeah, it's almost dawn. But let's just... hold each other a while first.”


	3. Deimos

We brushed off our respective dream and nightmare as we drove to work, and were laughing and joking with each other when we parked.

When he let me out of the car, though, he hesitated. He got a worried look.

“Listen... you're my subordinate... so... I mean... I'm your boss... Uh... I mean, so, you're the world to me, but... here, let's get back in the car for a minute.”

“I get it,” I said. “It's not ethical for you to date me. It's okay, we can pretend nothing's going on at work.”

He looked relieved. “You know I'm not ashamed of you or anything--”

“Yes, I know. But it's that you would have to, well, pretty much fire me, right?”

“Or resign.”

I reeled a little. Who would think for even a split second that my job was just as valuable as his?

“So whenever anyone asks, I'm working off-site with my best engineer, okay? I have dinner meetings and drag employees on all-night problems all the time.”

“Yeah. You got it.”

I couldn't resist giving him a little smile and wave as we parted ways at the door.

On my way to my office, I kept second-guessing myself. Had my little wave been too silly, too forward? Was this only a one-night stand, and now I've failed to take the hint that we're done? What would I say to him next? What if the next time he saw me, I totally blew it and he realized what a mistake he had made?

I tried to quiet my anxiety with work. I still had deadlines to meet.

“Hey,” the Project Manager said, startling me as he popped in.

“Hi, Ärger.”

“You have it for me yet?”

“No, I, uh,” I said, revisiting the nightmare of trying to find that damn file. Was I out to lunch when I named it, or what?

“Uh-huh,” he said, watching my efforts. “So should I go get a coffee or...”

“I'm sorry, I'll have it in a few minutes--”

“No, you won't. That new machine was installed. The whole department's going down for a presentation on it in ten. Just be there, and get your work to me when you're... organized.” He turned and left.

Great, a field trip. I hated that floor. I hardly ever had to go onto it, which meant I had no sense of direction among the labyrinth of ceiling-high pallets and machinery.

We were there all too soon, packed into a group that I wouldn't be able to escape from without ticking someone off. The presentation went on and on, and I got more and more unsettled.

Something about this was terrifying. All these machines, moving and clanking and chomping on their own-- all that force, all those cutting edges-- something is about to go wrong. I can feel it. All these people around me, I won't be able to get out. My breathing quickens, shortens, and then I can't take a breath.

Something terrible is about to happen, and I can't even take a breath to tell anyone. I drop to my knees, consumed by fear. We are doomed. We are doomed.

I must be dreaming. Please tell me I'm dreaming. But I'm not. This is real, this is all too real, the machines are clanking and my lungs have stopped and I'm passing out and I'm dying and

“You're okay, shhh, you're okay.”

A familiar voice. Somebody kneeling in front of me. A face I can almost make out through the blackness and tears.

“What do you need?”

“I need... to breathe.”

“She needs air! Everyone, get back! I SAID GET BACK. Come on, you can breathe, take one breath, count with me...”

Elon. Maybe I am dreaming. Can I die in my dream? Yes, you can stop breathing in your sleep. Wait, isn't he my boyfriend now? No, no, no. No world exists outside of this world, this world where I am dying.

“I'm here with you.”

No world exists outside of this, but Elon is here.

A hand holding my shoulder, another wiping the tears on my face, “Count with me, okay? Breathe in...

I gasp, and he says, “See, that's great, breathe out...”

I huff out air, too much, it collapses my lungs and I can't get it back, but with another prompt I find I am taking in air.

“See, you're doing it, you're going to be fine.”

“We have to leave-- this place, something terrible--” I gasp, “Something terrible is going to happen.”

He helps me up, and leads me out of the maze of machines and danger. Tears still dripping down my face, chest still struggling, now I become concerned with pulling myself together in front of him, my god, what is wrong with me?

“I can't breathe...” I gasp.

“You are breathing,” he says, leading me down the hallway. “You're having a panic attack, it will end soon, you're not dying. Do you want to talk about your project? How did you come up with that new process? It's so elegant.”

“I... I... Was looking at fractals, actually.”

“Fractals?”

“Yeah.” I sniffed, my heart raced a bit, but I went on, “Fractals are infinitely complex and chaotic. But a fractal is just one simple formula applied to itself over and over again.”

“So a simple process...”

“... Leads to complexity.”

“Are there more examples of that?”

“Well... life, for one thing... even... planets and galaxies...”

He got me back to his office-- not the one on the open floor, but the one with the closing door that he could fire people behind. It was big and open, and I was starting to calm down. I finally started to come back to reality. I stopped telling him about the consequences created by simple gravitational force as the mortification set in.

I felt like a child, sitting on a chair in his office wiping at my tears. It was humiliating to let him see me fall apart like this. Now that he'd seen the worst side of me, his interest in me was surely destroyed.

“I'm so sorry I couldn't keep it together,” I said, flushing. “I should be able to handle my own emotions, I mean, I swear, I'm fine 99% of the time, but when a panic attack hits--”

“Shhh, it's fine.” He put a reassuring hand on my arm, and oh my god is this something that I would be entitled to all the time, assuming he didn't dump me right here and now?

“It's not fine. I can't just fall apart at work.”

“Seriously. It's fine. It's not something you can control. I know someone who gets those. They tell me, it's like you can't breathe and you'll never be able to remember how. That's terrifying. I'm really, really happy I was able to be there for you.”

“But I should be able to pull myself out of my own panic attack! I shouldn't have to rely on someone else!”

“Fears were never meant to be faced alone.”

That response stuck with me all day and echoed in my mind as I fell asleep that night.

 


	4. Breakthrough

I shot straight up in bed. Elon was whimpering quietly beside me. I shook him awake.

“Huh?” he asked, disoriented.

“Come on. We're going to work.”

“What time is it?”

“3 am. Don't waste time getting dressed.”

“Are we really awake?”

“Yes.”

In our pajamas, we ran out to the car and took off down the road.

“Why the hell are we up at this time of night? What's going on? Will you please tell me what you think you're doing so I can decide if this is all worth it or not?” were all questions I expected from Elon, that I would have expected from anybody, but he did not ask them. He just stared at the road ahead, just as rapt as I was by the patterns of things appearing and disappearing that told us the thickness of the night between ourselves and our destination was shrinking.

I slapped my ID on the doors and practically dragged him to my office. Once I was standing in front of my computer, I slammed my hands on the desk and captured his eyes.

“Before I gave everything up to work for SpaceX, I worked in the medical industry.”

Elon leaned on the desk to match my eye level, listening close.

“I was just doing a bunch of clinical stuff, but some of the people around me, and some of the research I was reading on the side, had some really interesting frontiers in neurology. Electroencephalograms, biofeedback, monitoring and affecting brainwaves, even wiring up amputees to communicate with their prostheses. They could only do so much, though. After all, they're only brain surgeons. But I-- am a rocket scientist.”

I grabbed my mouse. “Neurology technology falls short, but, believe it or not, this-- uh,” I floundered as I tried to find the right file. “This, uh, hang on, hang on,” I kept saying for about five more minutes until I found the file I wanted. “There! This technology and software that we're developing for the boosters actually has an innovative underlying structure that can be adapted to a totally different field. I could build something with it. With it, we could--” I stopped. It probably wouldn't even work, and I suddenly realized how stupid it would sound to say out loud.

“We could what?” he asked.

“Uh, nothing, never mind,” I said, flushing and closing the file. “I just realized it wouldn't work. Let's, uh, let's just go home. I'm really sorry I dragged you out of bed.”

“NO.” He said it so sternly, I braced for yelling. He grabbed me by the arms and glared into my eyes. “You woke me up at 3 am, didn't even let me get dressed, raced us both to the office, and went nuts looking for a random file, all on a hunch that struck you out of the blue.”

My eyes were huge, I struggled not to cry.

“Do not EVER doubt an inspiration like that. You are my best engineer. You are brilliant, you outshine everyone else, and if you have an idea, you must always pursue it and never apologize. If you ever second-guess yourself again, you'll have to answer to me. Now you KNOW you had a huge breakthrough. What is it?”

I had no voice for a few seconds, and then something within me said:

“We could share the same dream.”

“Holy smokes,” he said. The look on his face showed he 100% believed I could whip it up right now. “That's amazing. Let's do it.”

“It's a long shot,” I warned. “It probably won't work.”

“I'm in the business of long shots.”


	5. Nightshare

 BONUS MATERIAL: Sometimes I listen to one song on a loop while writing a chapter. This one was[ Jenny by Studio Killers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyj4JFSErrw).

 

  
All we did for the rest of that night was work, and it was absolute heaven.

There was something incredibly sexy about seeing my boss leaning over his computer, wearing only his sleep shirt and shorts, hair still mussed from bed, as intent on his screen as he was any weekday.

“We've got to name this project,” he said as he ordered equipment and I sketched up a software flow.

“Well, it lets us share... our dreams...”

“Or nightmares.”

“Nightshare!”

“Ooo!” he lit up and smacked the desk. The pure, unplanned response of approval made my heart soar.

“Great, then, Nightshare,” I said. “That doesn't sound ominous at all.”

“No way, a technology named Nightshare is totally not going to turn into a clusterfuck.”

We grinned at each other.

Sex was great and all, and irreplaceable, but this synchronization of mind and passion was we worked was incredible as well.

And then he grabbed me and kissed me, and, you know, I guess we could have both at once.

We were lost in our project for hours with such intensity that the sound of the doors down the hall opening took us both by surprise.

Elon looked up wildly. “We cannot be seen in sleepwear together.”

I looked at him and then down at myself-- not only were we in t-shirts and shorts, they matched. And were embroidered with “MUSK.”

“Elon, they're between us and your car, there's no where to GO.”

“Okay. Here's the plan.” He grabbed me by the wrist, and we ran.

We slammed through the doors on the opposite side of the open-space office, hearing a “Hello?” a split second later. We dashed around a corner, down a hallway, and then he used his badge on a door I hadn't noticed before... deliberately boring and marked with one of those “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY” signs that either applied to me or didn't, and this one didn't.

The person who entered must have heard us scamper, because his voice got closer: “Mr. Musk? Is that you? You're creeping me out...”

“Get in,” he whispered, and we slipped through the mysterious door and into what turned out to be a closet full of network switches.

He shut the door quietly behind him. We looked at each other for a moment, scrunched against wires, illuminated by blinking lights, and began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Elon Musk,” I giggled, feeling tears on my face. “Are we hiding in a closet from one of your employees?”

“Yesssss,” he grinned.

“You're the CEO!”

He made a short loud laugh and then covered his mouth to silence himself. Unable to be converted the sound, the energy instead made his shoulders shake.

His phone dinged with a message. He looked at it and fell to pieces. Grin breaking past his hand, he held it up for me to see:

GREG LARKS: I think someone is in the building.

We would be on our knees if there were room; instead we fell onto each other.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Elon said, even though he was snickering more loudly than me. He texted back, holding the phone so I could see:

YOU: I got here early. Do me a favor and get me the new projector from the hangar.

“The new projector isn't in the hangar!”

“I know!”

We dissolved again.

“Okay, okay, he says he's going to put his stuff down and go get it.”

“Then what?? Ärger is expecting me here in 20 minutes! That's not enough time to go home and change!”

“I keep spare clothes here. I've got a pretty generic Tesla polo and some jeans that aren't too distinctive. A belt, too.”

“Elon, I'll smell like you!”

“I have a smell?”

“Yes, like... cola and oranges and whatever is in your hair.” I hesitated. “And your... well... musk.”

“Well, you would notice. I'm sure the other employees don't.”

“Actuallyyy.......”

“Seriously? You guys talk about how I smell?”

“... Yes?”

He looked up and muttered, “Does anyone ever complain about the abuse I have to take? Nobody ever complains about the abuse I have to take.” He sighed. “Okay. New plan.” He hesitated a moment. The voices of two people calling Good Morning to each other reached us from the office. “Okay. Different new plan.”

He looked up, stretched his arm above his head-- damn, the flow of his muscles was gorgeous-- and smacked the fire alarm.

The entire building immediately went into full-on flashing lights and wailing claxon mode.

He tapped his phone a few times and said, “Now... we pass a couple minutes while people clear out...”

“But I still need to be dressed and in front of Ärger in--”

He cut me off with a deep kiss. And for the next few minutes, we were not a CEO and an accomplished engineer, we were two teenagers hiding in a closet, fumbling each others' clothes, slobbering on each others' lips, and squirming to find an angle that wasn't uncomfortable against some router or rack.

“Okay,” he grinned between pecks, “It should be clear.”

“We should make sure the stragglers are out.”

Two minutes later, we emerged from the closet.

“Come on, before the fire marshal gets here.”

We raced down a hall like we were trying to outrun firetrucks, me panting out, “They think there's a real fire??”

“No, I sent out a message that I triggered the alarm accidentally, but they still have to show up and give the official all-clear.”

“Elon, I can't even get out of the building with everyone hanging around the exits!”

“Don't need to, come on.” He pulled me into the women's locker room by the gym.

“Okay... personal lockers... master key,” he said, tapping his card on a random locker. It popped right open, revealing a bag, water bottle, and pink gym clothes.

“Do you do this regularly??”

“No,” he said, pulling out a sports bra and looking at it in awe. “Should I?”

“Absolutely not!” I snatched the bra out of his hands and held it up to my chest. “This is way too large.”

“We'll keep trying.”

We popped about ten lockers before finding clothes that fit me and didn't belong to anyone I thought I would run into.

Elon slammed the lockers all closed as the alarm stopped.

“The marshal must be here. Quick, get dressed.”

My instinct for modesty kicked in for a split second, and Elon spread his hands. “We were JUST groping each other. Come on!”

I got dressed quickly.

“Okay, I've got to get to my spare clothes. Hide in the ladies' room, then show up to work in ten.”

“Elon---!”

He blew me a kiss and jogged away.

I showed up at my desk ten minutes later, looking innocently disoriented by the fire alarm, and Elon showed up a few minutes after that, looking like he hadn't just been chewed out by the fire marshal.

Masters of deceit, the two of us.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS MATERIAL: Deleted scene:
> 
> “Get in the frunk!”
> 
> “YOU get in the frunk.”
> 
> “We'll both get in the frunk. This thing has auto-pilot.”


End file.
